Transient | A ROTTMNT Future Story

the permanent death

At five years old, Casey Jr. did not understand the concept of death. When word was out his favorite mad scientist of an uncle had passed during battle, it didn't register the way death was expected to. He didn't grieve the way he was supposed to. Not the way the adults did.

"Where's uncle Donnie?" Casey asked the night of. He was being tucked in by April. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her clothes smelled like copper. In his mind, she had become the spitting image of a monster, which partially scared Casey.

"He's..." April ran her hand down Casey's soft face, trying to comfort herself in some small way. Her lip was trembling. "Donnie's dead."

Casey tilted his head. His mouth was closed, but his tongue prodded curiously at the exposed gum his missing teeth left behind. A wet, clicking sound he created tickled his nerves. "What's that?"

"It means he's gone, forever."

Casey continued to explore the wonders of the inside of his mouth. A, in the simplest of terms, rather childishly disgusting action. He soon stopped once it was his turn to speak. "We can't see him anymore?"

"No."

"Then..." Casey's naive mind thought of something clever to say. Instead, out came the words, "then I wanna be dead, too!"

Her expression seemed unchanged. Nevertheless, a tear rolled down April's cheek as she shut her eyes slowly. She pressed her lips to the child's forehead. "Goodnight, Junior."

"Are you okay, April?"

"Goodnight." She insisted with the force of a benevolent drifting cloud, passing through an otherwise clear sky.

"Night!"

-

Before Donnie's gift, Casey was given a short lesson on how to wrap bandages by his uncle Raph.

"First, you wrap around your fist. Then between each finger, and back around the palm."

"I don't get it!" Casey surrendered, slamming the rolled fabric to the ground. It bounced a few times against the surface like an excitable puppy.

"Practice." Raph encouraged. "For me."

Casey was gifted a box a few days before Donnie's death from the late turtle himself. In this box was a giant hockey mask. After later confirmation, this mask was modeled after his mother's. It could not have possibly fit the toddler's face. So Casey kept the shoebox safe. Every day, one of the first things Casey would do shortly after waking was check if his face magically fit the mask. It didn't for a long time. The older Casey got, the more gifts he seemed to receive.

When Casey finally achieved the point to finally wear his hockey mask, he wanted to change the look of plain white. After gaining red color, Casey went to work, and painted stripes overlapping his eyes. Just like Leo's. As of age thirteen, Casey Jr. was gifted customized teal kneepads from Donnie's brother Michelangelo, which had technically made Mikey his uncle as well. It didn't feel the same though, as their relationship felt more like desperate soldiers in need of solace than family at more than half of their interactions.

Looking back on it now, Casey can assume his family was just preparing him to pull his weight during the war. Now that he's safe, he can realize how messed up the practice was.

Junior could remember the outfit change and how it altered his appearance from a boy to a man. He was ready for whatever the enemy threw his way.

The day that the mask finally fit him, a voice echoed in his head.

"Hello, Casey Jones Junior. I welcome you from Genius Built Apparel, trademarked. It's me, Donnie." The clarification that the brand was trademarked seemed to be shoehorned in.